


to tryst with midnight, to fall under its spell

by Bugggghead



Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Shameless Smut, Smut, and gives betty more than just a private dance, betty discovers her bi side, betty experiments, they met online, veronica is a dancer at a gentleman's club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 10:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: The profile had a picture of her chest, cleavage poking out on the bottom and black painted nails clutching pearls around her neck. She thinks she might recognize Vee's smile. It's a splash of stark white against the stained maroon lips at the top of the little bitty icon. They're perfect, she knows that much, white and glistening and straight as can be.The shadow of her silhouette wiggles on stage, the backlighting turning her form into simply a shape. A luscious, curvy, sinfully tempting shape that is shifting in time with the music. She hears the scrape of her heels against the stage, her body twisting and turning away again as she circles the pole she's gripping so tight.





	to tryst with midnight, to fall under its spell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milkshakesandmurders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkshakesandmurders/gifts).



> Well! Here we are! Whoa. I know. 
> 
> I write SO much bughead but this beronica au wouldn't leave me alone! It's a huge departure from my typical fics and it's been a serious learning experience to write this! 
> 
> This is exclusively beronica - there is zero jughead or mention of him in this fic, so if that's not your thing, totally cool! 
> 
> You are under zero obligation to read any farther and I promise I would never hold your own shipping preferences against you! (also side note, i don't ship bughead any less)
> 
> If you're still reading & still interested in the fic, HI! WELCOME! I hope you like the little tale ahead! We all know Veronica would make the sexiest exotic dancer so I hope the imagery reinforces this idea. lol.
> 
> This fic has been a true labor of love. First thanks to @milkshakesandmurders for reigniting my love for beronica. This one is for you, love! Second, thank you to @theheavycrown, @shibbycat, @janes-hoppers/@lilibug, @peaceblessingspeyton, @lovedinapastlife, @agent-prentiss, and @thenurseholliday all for supporting me and reading various rough drafts of this. Lastly - thank you to @paperlesscrown who is probably the reason I'm choosing to publish this. Your support means so much to me Liz and I can't thank you enough for your feedback and words of encouragement! (also - she's the genius who came up with the title)
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/DCQQJGX)  
> 

*  
  


 

Betty Cooper isn't the girl one would expect to find perched at a table in a gentlemen's club. Her blonde waves hang loosely around her shoulders, her lip trapped between her teeth as she worries it and waits. 

 

She knows her name is Vee, recalling the profile she'd curiously responded to after a few too many glasses of wine about a week before. But even Betty knows it's probably just a stage name, a pseudonym of sorts not at all unlike the one she uses on the profile she'd never admit to having. The same one emblazoned with her darker desires involving the fairer sex. 

 

Betty had been dabbling in the darker parts of the internet for years, her own curiosities drawing her into the world of the unknown - albeit with a veil of anonymity. Most days she wears a ponytail as her armor, a soft pink shade of lip gloss on her lips, and answers to Miss Betty when her classroom full of five year olds call. But when the sun sinks below the horizon, and her computer whirs to life, she lets B come out to play.

 

The twinkle of the stage lights shimmers against a head of dark hair. Someone's walking onto the stage covered in a pitch black trenchcoat, only her hands and heel clad feet reveal small patches of olive toned skin. She thinks that's probably her, the strappy back stilettos being one of her only visible hints at first glance. She'd said she’d be wearing them, with nails painted black to match. And the way the crowd falls silent as the lights dim and the song segues to a slower one tells Betty everyone else seems to want the girl on stage, too.

 

Some Spanish ballad snakes through the speakers, the twang of a guitar vibrating straight to her core as Betty's eyes drag over the curve of the woman on stage's hips. The coat is pooled on the floor, a whistle sounding from somewhere to her right and Betty can't seem to tear her eyes away. Her body twists as her hands come up to clutch the pole above her head, her heels click just once on the floor before she's facing the crowd. 

 

But Betty still can't see her face - not that she would recognize it anyway. 

 

The profile had a picture of her chest, cleavage poking out on the bottom and black painted nails clutching pearls around her neck. She thinks she might recognize Vee's smile. It's a splash of stark white against the stained maroon lips at the top of the little bitty icon. They're perfect, she knows that much, white and glistening and straight as can be. 

 

The shadow of her silhouette wiggles on stage, the backlighting turning her form into simply a shape. A luscious, curvy, sinfully tempting shape that is shifting in time with the music. She hears the scrape of her heels against the stage, her body twisting and turning away again as she circles the pole she's gripping so tight.

 

Betty feels like she can't breathe when the lights slowly come up. Through the haze of hushed whispers and ribbons of smoke, she sees a small quirk of the woman's lips when their eyes connect through the crowd. She sucks in a breath, tightening her hold on the glass that she's very nearly drained already.

 

The rhythm picks up slowly, her body turning in time as she slips a finger under one strap of the black gauzy dress, sliding it off her shoulder and batting her black-rimmed eyes at a guy holding out a twenty. The fabric falls to the floor and she blows him a kiss when he slips it into her garter, looking as weak as Betty feels watching it all unfold.

 

The strum of the Spanish guitar echoes around the room, punctuated only by the occasional whistle. Betty counts the bills she can see collecting under the band. She's made over two hundred dollars in all of two minutes and she thinks the girl on stage is worth far more. 

 

Tipping her glass back and feeling it burn all the way down her throat, she watches her step off the stage, weaving between the tables and leaving watchful eyes in her wake. Betty can’t tear her gaze from the smile sealed on the raven-haired woman’s lips, it’s bright and white and exactly the same as the tiny, grainy icon that’s burned into her mind.

 

Fishing a bill out of her purse, still crisp from the ATM she’d stopped at earlier in preparation for the show, Betty lays it flat on the table. It is  _ definitely  _ Vee when she sees the sharp line of her collarbone adorned with a simple string of pearls she hadn’t noticed earlier on stage. 

 

The girl in question, the siren that she’s been speaking to in messages and conjuring in her dreams, continues her dance across the floor. More bills are poised in her garter when she finally makes it to the back of the room, stuffed haphazardly against her dewy skin under the elastic. 

 

Betty's eyes trace the lines of the strappy black ensemble, pausing to study the way her flesh bends under the press of the fabric she thinks might be transparent in the right light. But as it is, under the glow of the club’s lights bathing her curves in low beams, Betty can barely make out the peak of her nipples straining against the fabric. 

 

With the slight tremble of her hand, she grabs the bill as the woman saunters closer, waggling her hips with every step and staring daggers straight through the blonde with her piercing gaze.

 

She doesn’t say a word, knowing full well it’d be drowned out by the heavy bass bouncing off the walls. Instead, she holds her breath as the girl clad in mere scraps of black presses her palm to Betty’s thigh. She can’t breathe as she feels the scrape of the perfectly manicured obsidian nails slithering up under the hem of her skirt. 

 

“B?” she asks in a breathless whisper with her body leaned over her sitting form, her breath ghosting across the shell of Betty’s ear.

 

She still can’t breathe, much less speak so she nods slowly instead. Reaching down with the bill pressed between her fingers, she slips it into one of the straps high on her hip, letting the thrum of her pulse beat hard against her chest as she does. What she doesn’t expect, and what has her exhaling and pressing forward just an inch is the nip of the woman’s teeth against her earlobe. The soft, “I’ll be back soon,” is nearly lost between the hard beating of her heart and the breath she sucks in response.

 

Only when she turns again, with the scalloping of the lace pressed against the curve of the dancer’s ass does Betty remember to breathe. In then out again, regaining her composure and knowing full well the hum of the blood in her veins has nothing to do with the drink she’d finished off earlier.

 

Back up on stage, she watches the brunette slither against the pole, twisting and turning in time with the waves of the next song crashing through the room. In a smooth motion, she watches Vee snap the clasp of the bra made up almost entirely of straps, small triangles of fabric barely covering the peaks. All she sees is the vast expanse of skin, soft and smooth under the twinkling lights dancing on stage in time with the beat. Her back is bare, and her ass is pressed against the pole when she bends her knees, sinking to the floor before slowly rising again.

 

Betty’s never been one to enjoy a public show, but even with all the watchful eyes on the girl spinning on stage, it feels as though this dance is just for her - a private sneak peek of what’s to come when the words of their chat come to life between the glowing moon and the sun’s early morning rays. 

 

Her thighs clench together when Vee turns around again, her chest free of the confines of the bra and her gaze locked on the blonde shrouded in the shadows of the back corner of the room.

 

She watches the woman’s tongue peek out from between crimson lips, swiping her bottom lip and Betty has an urge to taste her. She wants to taste the plush skin of her hip, nibble on the lip now shining in the dim room, devour her essence in the privacy of the pillowy mattress waiting for their company at the hotel only a few blocks away.

 

Being a natural planner, she’d taken time to work out the details of the tryst - the room, the time, the day - it all played into the fantasy she was finally indulging for the first time in her life. 

 

She’d been touched before by the calloused hands of the men she’d invited into her bed. She’d even reached that blissful high a time or two during the dangerous liaisons she’d allowed herself in the past. But the press of smooth palms and the soft curve of a woman’s hand had yet to sweep her body in anything but her own dreams.

 

The second song ends with the fanfare of the crowd, voices roaring as they hoop and holler when she slips behind the curtain. 

 

-

 

She watches another act, orders a shot of tequila she drinks then and there and another poorly mixed margarita as she waits, tapping her nails against the bartop. 

 

A man clad all in black, Security emblazoned across his chest approaches her table where the salt-rimmed glass now sits empty, condensation pooling against the woodgrain.

 

“Miss Vee wants you for a private show,” he says as her eyes go wide. She gulps and grabs the pink clutch to her side before following him behind the thick, velvet curtain and into the private rooms.

 

He doesn’t follow her in, the outturn of his boots visible in the small sliver of space she can see beneath the curtain. Settling into the plush velvet covering the oversized couch, she finds herself waiting again. The steady thump of the song filtering through the speakers in the main room seems awfully slow compared to the hammering of her heart in her chest. Peeking in her purse, she grips the seduce scarlet lip stain and pulls it out, swiping a heavy coat over her lips. As soon as she slips it back in, she hears the distinct click of heels growing closer. 

 

When Vee peels the curtain back and steps into the small space, she’s once again covered by the trenchcoat, a singular button done directly in the middle reveals sections of skin Betty’s fingers itch to explore. 

 

“Hi,” Betty says on an exhale, immediately regretting the simple word and wishing she’d come up with something a bit more sultry.

 

“Hello there,” Vee returns, closing the space between them with two short steps, her heels on either side of Betty’s modest flats and their knees pressed together. She leans forward, bracing her hands above Betty’s shoulders, her breath hot on the blonde’s neck. “Would you like a private show?” Her voice is velvety smooth, low and coaxing as her words whisper onto Betty’s skin.

 

“Y-yes,” Betty breathes, forcing the word from her lips as she feels Vee’s skim over the skin of her neck.

 

Deft, perfectly polished fingers slip onto her shoulders, pushing her coat down until she wiggles her arms free and pushes it to the side. Vee is leaning over her again, the sheer weight of her presence pressing Betty back into the cushions as she lets her eyes explore the strips of flesh she can see. 

 

“You can touch.” 

 

Three little words send her head spinning as the next song begins. It’s pulsing through the room when she reaches forward, nervous fingers pushing the button through the hole. The fabric swings to the side and the blonde’s eyes drag over the thin scrap of fabric covering her center. 

 

Up close, she can see the intricacies in the lace, the skin straining against the complicated criss-cross pattern adorning the woman’s hips. She forces her gaze up, trailing over the soft lines of her stomach to the curve of her breast. The faint reminders of her full outfit are still showing on her skin, light pink lines from the matching top she’d left on stage. Instinctively, Betty reaches forward to smooth her palm over Vee’s shoulders, pushing the coat off completely before it falls to the floor. 

 

Her hips swing to life, slowly waving from side to side as she leans over the blonde whose hands are still perched on the dancer’s shoulders. If she’d thought it was dark out in the main room, it’s practically midnight in the private one. 

 

Across the room a lamp is on, a sheer red square thrown over the light. It bathes them in low, inviting glow, painting patches of crimson that could rival Vee’s lips across the splashes of exposed skin.

 

She’s twisting and turning before Betty knows it, the ghost of her last breath still simmering on Betty’s neck when she turns to sit. She can feel the slickness in her panties when Vee presses her ass down on her lap, grinding and writhing against her center hard enough to elicit a moan. It sounds nearly animalistic, something she isn’t even sure her own body conjured when it registers through the hazy fog of her mind. 

 

Her hands are shakier than they were when she’d tipped Vee, cautiously reaching forward to ghost over the woman’s hips. She feels the press of Vee’s palms against hers, giving her permission, urging her to touch, to dig her nails in if the pressure is any indication.

 

All at once, she wonders if everyone gets this kind of treatment. If it only takes a hundred dollar bill to earn the right to feel the curve of her hips. But then she remembers their conversations - the power she swore she felt every time she stepped on the stage. Betty remembers her words of want, the longing she’d expressed for real, true companionship. And she lets herself believe that no one has ever had her like this before. A sign in the corner reads  _ No Touching _ as she presses her nails into Vee’s curves and hopes others follow the rule she can't help but break. 

 

A small gasp ripples from her lips when the woman presses into her lap again, rocking her hips in time with the beat. Betty knows her panties are soaked by the slick sensation between her legs, the lingering tingle sending waves of want to every recess of her mind. Vee has barely begun the dance and she’s already adrift in the sea of her hips swishing before her very eyes.

 

She looks like she should be encased in glass, put on display for the world to marvel at with some small sign denoting her significance. Her energy is all consuming and the way she's wiggling on Betty's lap has her head swimming with reverent thoughts of caressing her curves between silken sheets.

 

Her thighs press together when Vee moves to stand again, turning to face her with fingers threaded in her midnight locks.

 

She sways from side to side and Betty watches with bated breath as the plump mounds on her chest wiggle along with the motion. Digging her nails into the velvet of the cushion, she's enraptured by the work of art before her. It's overwhelming to think it's all for her in that moment - her eyes, her hands, her lips being the only things granted access to the masterpiece who'd captivated an entire crowd not long before.

 

Much like in the main room, the deep brown eyes bore into her as the distance between their bodies disappears. The cushions on either side of her hips sink under the weight of Vee's knees. Betty can see every dip and curve of her collarbone and has the urge to lave her tongue in the space between when she feels her hands being lifted, placed on pillowy breasts and pressed against the flesh with force. Even at her own direction, the siren sitting on her lap moans, the sinful sound slipping between the lips she wants to worship. 

 

Their hips press together as knees slide apart, the heat on her thighs urging her forward. She grips the soft flesh, thumbs swiping over the hardened peaks. A gasp spills from the brunette’s lips as she continues the dance, pressing against Betty's lap. 

 

One song turns into two and Betty's hands are still cupping her chest, squeezing and plucking at the nipples with each gasp and groan.

 

Her lips find purchase on the olive toned skin stretched over her collarbone when she leans forward again. This time the manicured nails scrape against Betty's scalp and tug at the blonde tresses.

 

She thinks she could come right here and now, tongue licking tantalizing skin and her core thumping with the need for  _ more _ . But then the song ends again and there's a wild whisp nestled in the warm brown of Vee's eyes. 

 

-

 

They'd agreed to split the cost of the room, but Betty briefly thinks they'd never discussed damages when she's pushed back against the door with sharp fingers swimming in her curls and searing lips sealed on her neck. 

 

A low moan drips from her lips at first contact. They hadn't touched on the walk or in the lobby waiting for the elevator. So warm palms on her neck and painted lips against her skin has her toes tingle in anticipation. 

 

Once again, when hips press against her center, she feels herself edging on blissful release. The thrill of the promises lips are painting across her neck has her chest heaving and her fingers slipping around to tug on the small zipper holding her thin dress together. Betty drags the metal clasp down and Vee sucks harder with every inch. She can feel the flesh bruising beneath her teeth as she bites her lip and drops her hands to the bare hips she finds beneath the dress. 

 

Vee isn't wearing a stitch of cloth on her entire body save for the heels that clink against the wood when she steps out of the dress pooled at her feet. She feels a hand on her back, tugging the material of her simple black tank as it's pulled from her skirt. Pushing the material of her skirt past her hips, Betty then raises her arms to let the brunette peel off her shirt. 

 

She'd never be bold enough to go anywhere without underwear, unlike the picture of tempting perfection standing with poised posture in front of her. 

 

She can see the chocolate brown eyes drag over every dip of her body and she shifts back against the door. Even wearing the white lacy bra with the delicate details she’d meticulously chosen and the wispy panties that match, she feels more exposed than the naked vision of Vee. 

 

She pulls Betty forward and practically purrs, “Don't be embarrassed,” against her neck. And the blonde feels herself melt in her arms. 

 

“But you're so beautiful,” Betty mumbles, fingers tracing the lines of her lean limbs with reverence.

 

She feels the clasp of her bra pop open, then fingers dance to the straps and it's down and off in a second.

 

The bite of nails press into the back of her neck, tilting her head down to meet the deep brown eyes swimming with want. “You're fucking perfect,” Vee says against her lips, pressing them forward once, twice, and pulling back.

 

Her words sound as though they're steeped in sincerity and Betty has a flash of their teasing virtual banter, replaying it in what she now knows to be the silken siren song of her voice.

 

**_Vee_ **

_ Dancing is a degree away from the intimacy of intercourse. It's invading someone's senses without a single touch. Is that what you’re looking for, love? _

 

She thinks the brunette now tracing the curves of her body with careful consideration must've been onto something. She remembers feeling submerged in the subtext of her sways, enraptured with a simple sinewy silhouette under the bright lights of the stage. And now, she’s surrounded by a palpable essence that’s seeped into every inch of skin she’s touched. Betty can almost taste the tang on her tongue, blowing out a shuddering breath as she feels nimble fingers trace the curve of her breast. 

 

They’d talked about that, too. She’d been more honest online than she could ever muster in person. With years of her mother’s prim and proper discussions, even saying the word sex aloud without the accompanying blush always seemed to be a feat. But through the relative anonymity afforded in their messages, she’d been more open about desires no one had ever been privy to before. 

 

“I want you to sit down on the bed,” Vee whispers against her neck, pressing a kiss before she speaks again, “and I want to give you another private show. But, B,” she breathes, pulling back and sliding her hands against the curve of her own hips, “this time I need you to touch me.”

 

Betty gulps. “I - I did,” she stutters.

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.  _ Really _ touch me, B.” And when she says that with the silken texture of her tone caressing Betty's senses, all she can manage is a nod as she sits on the edge of the bed.

 

Tapping her phone a few times, another Spanish song seeps through the speakers and she begins to move. Swaying side to side, she steps forward again, a hairsbreadth away from making contact. From her seated position, hardened peaks are just are just inches away and the words from just a moment before are playing on loop in Betty's mind. 

 

_ Really touch me _ . 

 

So she does, reaching up to splay her palms across the smaller girl's ribs, she pulls her forward gently. Knees press into the mattress on either side of Betty's legs as she leans forward to place a kiss above the swell of the brunette’s breast. Her fingers trace the line of flesh just below, cupping the supple swell and pressing lightly against it. The girl mewls in response, swinging her hips slowly as one of Betty's hands slinks around her waist, pressing her mouth to the olive toned chest and working down inch by inch. She can feel a tingle low in her belly as Vee arches into her. Betty swirls her tongue around the darkened peak and moans when she feels nails scrape her scalp as she's pulled farther forward. 

 

She can feel the slow sway of small hips beneath her palms as her teeth experimentally scrape the brunette’s nipple. Something must snap because the next thing she knows, her bare back is being pressed into the pillow top and she feels a mind numbing heat against her core. 

 

When their lips meet, she's being pinned to the mattress, slim fingers slipped between hers and a velvety tongue coaxing her mouth open. She tastes like pure sin, a lingering hint of tequila on Betty's lips mixes with the tempting tang of Vee's tongue as it twists and swirls in her mouth. 

 

She groans when she feels knees spreading wider apart, the heat radiating from the brunettes core intensifying the throb between her own legs. Betty presses her thighs together and tangles her fingers in inky, silken stands as she deepens the kiss. She moans into the other girl's open mouth when she feels the pressure of a toned thigh press into her center. 

 

“You're so fucking wet.” When the words are whispered against her lips, Betty feels a surge of arousal course through her body because she is - wetter than she thinks she's ever been before and she's barely even been touched. 

 

Skilled fingers brush against the front of her lace panties, pushing the material to the side before sliding up then down against her dripping slit. “Ohmigod,” she moans as she pulls back, gulping in a breath as Vee drags her nail through her slick arousal.

 

“Tell me what you want.” Her breath is hot in Betty's ear as her fingers trace the lines of her throbbing lips. 

 

“Y - you,” Betty chokes out.

 

“Tsk, tsk, mon amour,” the brunette coos against her neck, pressing her painted lips against the sensitive skin. “Be more specific.”

 

“Your fingers,” Betty breathes. “In - in me.”

 

“Much better.” 

 

Betty preens at the praise, pressing her eyes shut and arching forward when she feels the finger trailing along her slit begin to push inside of her. 

 

It starts out slow, with short gasps as deft fingers slip in and out in a steady rhythm. The pretense of the dance has all but slipped her mind when she hears the song change and another one come on. She doesn't understand the words, but Vee begins to pump with the rhythm. Her velvety smooth voice mumbles the lyrics in Betty's ear, nibbling between breaths on the lobe as nimble fingers work her into a frenzy. 

 

She's practically panting when the raven-haired girl pulls away, eyes glazed over with lust and lips trailing down. 

 

Betty’s eyes slam shut again when she feels her panties being pulled down and off. Then it's the press of a warm tongue against her nipple, followed closely by the slight sting of a bite. With Vee's rhythm building and her teeth scraping Betty's breast, she rides the high of smooth, supple skin pressed against her own. 

 

It's all too much, and much too soon as she comes with a gasp, still gripping silken strands between her fingers as she tugs the brunette back to capture her mouth. Betty's hands cup her cheeks as she flips her over, pushing the smaller girl into the pillows and staring at the sight before her. There's a light flush across the tanned, taut skin covering her chest, and her breasts are on full display as she breathes in deeply. 

 

Betty ducks her head, sucking a nipple into her mouth and palming her other breast. The time for slow and sensual has long passed and it takes every ounce of restraint she has not to come again from the soft mewl spilling from Vee's lips. 

 

She feels fingers card through her hair again and the distinct bite of nails against her scalp shooting fire through veins. The sting of strands being pulled taunt has her riding the thin line between pleasure and pain, her core pulsing in response. 

 

Vee may have brought her to climax with her fingers, but Betty's craving a taste of what she's doing to the beautiful brunette writhing beneath her. 

 

She's never done this before, and only had it done to her a handful of times, but instinct and want overtake her rational thought as she trails kisses down. Betty presses her lips to the underside of her breast, working her way down the lean lines of her abdomen and finally scraping her teeth against the swell of her hips. 

 

For a moment she just stares, pressing a palm against the smaller girl's knees to spread them wide. Her fingertips slip down, carefully opening the clasp of each heel before pulling them off. 

 

Moving back upward, the tips of her fingers skate the inside of Vee's thigh before she brings one up to slowly circle Vee's swollen clit. The subsequent hiss has her leaning forward to kiss the same spot. She's tentative at first, dragging her tongue across the dewy flesh and basking in the tang of her arousal on her tongue. A series of mumbled yeses and moans eggs her on and Betty lightly sucks the flesh at the peak of her slit. Her fingers slip inside easily, coated with the same slickness she's tasting from swollen lips. 

 

Because most of her orgasms have been from her own hand, Betty knows just how to curve her fingers as she sucks on Vee's pulsing nub. Hips press against her face and she withdraws her fingers, hooking an arm around her waist to pin her to the bed. 

 

Her free hand reaches up, tweaking a nipple and pulling on the peak as she traps her clit between her teeth. She licks down farther, sinking her tongue into the slick entrance and drinking in every drop of arousal she can find. She tastes divine - a thick, heady mix of salty and sweet swirling on her tongue.

 

For just a moment, she allows herself to revel in the mere fact that she, Betty Cooper, plain vanilla blonde has the gorgeous likes of Vee hanging on the edge of release. 

 

Then she plunges her tongue in again, swirling inside of her and pressing her thumb against the bundle of nerves. 

 

She comes with a whimper as her hips arch off the bed and Betty can’t scramble up fast enough. Thin fingers cup her cheeks as the brunette sits up, pulling her forward before they both fall back with their lips sealed together. Vee moans into her mouth, her own taste lingering on Betty's tongue causes flames to flash in her otherwise darkened irises. Betty feels a knee wedge between her legs as Vee guides her hips with nails pressing into the swell of skin. 

 

She's still so sensitive and the feel of slick lips gliding against a smooth thigh has her dizzy with need. Betty's hips press down, grinding against the toned skin and tilting her head back in response. She feels a soft hand reach up to palm her breast as the other digs into her hip, dragging her up and down and she knows she's about to reach her climax again. 

 

A low moan starts in her chest and is pulled from her lips when sharp nails bite into soft flesh and she sees stars bust behind her eyes as a release rushes through her body. 

 

But the sting in her hips doesn't stop and she's grinding down again harder against the flexed muscle between her dripping folds. Soon there are warm, wet lips sucking on her nipple and she careens over the edge once more.

 

When she rolls off and onto her back, she doesn't even have a chance to catch her breath before the contours of a smaller body press flush against her curves. 

 

“You did so well, baby,” Vee whispers against her lips, pressing a kiss before pulling back. Betty's fingers sink into her tresses as she pulls the brunette back down for a searing kiss. 

 

Their tongues tangle for a while, soft gasps between with Betty's hands tracing the curves of her body. She's never felt anything quite like it, the smooth, moisturized skin like silk under her fingertips. 

 

She nips at the brunette’s lips and cants her hip up again. The firm press back tells her it's her turn to take over. Licking into Vee's open mouth, she snakes a hand between them and groans when she's met with damp skin between toned thighs. 

 

This time her strokes aren't tentative, two fingers pressing into the brunette’s heat with a fervor. Her thumb circles her soaked slit as two fingers slip in and out of the girl above her. She feels Vee’s hips press against the pressure and she lifts a foot flat on the bed to shove her thigh between them. 

 

Betty pulls her fingers back and grips the crest of Vee's hips, dragging her along the expanse of her thigh. The feel of her arousal dripping down tender flesh and heat pooled between her own legs has Betty moaning to match the girl riding her thigh. 

 

She pulls her forward an inch, the top of her hip pressing into Vee's clit when she feels the press of a wet thigh against her own.

 

The brunette grinds down as Betty leans up, one hand flying to her breast while the other presses into her hip. Her lips close around the swell of the brunette’s breast and when she mewls above her, Betty feels something warm and wet coat her thigh. 

 

Never to be outdone, she sucks and nips at the buds of her breast as Vee moans above her with her head thrown back in ecstasy. Betty moves her hand from her hip to her waist as she pulls the smaller girl forward, sucking deeper on her breast until she falls apart again.

 

She doesn't think she's ever been so turned on in her life. Even after coming multiple times, she wants to watch Vee come again. But her heavy limbs and labored breaths say otherwise. 

 

Vee cradles her face between sweaty palms, pulling her forward into a deep kiss. “You were amazing,” she purrs against swollen lips. 

 

Betty wakes with sheets wrapped low on her waist, the towels from their shower turned steamy lay discarded on the floor. She has a flash of dark hair against her creamy thighs with water splashing against stark white tile and smiles. There's an arm slung across her waist and the curves of a body pressed against her side. 

 

-

 

Later that evening while grading papers at her counter, her phone hums with a message.

 

**_Vee_ **

_ Next time let's try toys _

 

And the thought alone brings her to brink less than an hour later while she's laying between her sheets with a hand sink into her panties.

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo.... thoughts?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little au! Please let me know what you thought below in the comments! I love and cherish every single one of them <3
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @bugggghead


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